


Your Reality, My Reality

by GoshDarn



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, In Media Res, M/M, Psychological Drama, non-romantic, pretty damn close to a pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2103000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoshDarn/pseuds/GoshDarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Graham's psyche has finally taken a dark turn, and has left him as a person divided. While he believes there is only his current self, another, more predatory Will lies just beneath the surface. </p><p>Hannibal can separate the two, and envisions the same interactions with both of Will's personas. </p><p>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Option of reading from the start, or skipping forward for a true PWP experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First William Graham

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS!
> 
> Okay so I know some of you may be here for a story, while others are here for some straight up porn. Let's be honest with ourselves here. 
> 
> So if you want a STORY, continue as you were. If you want to fast forward to the good stuff (albeit with minimal backstory) just flip to Chapter 2 - I promise no one will judge you.

The lights waver off in the distance, rhythmically fading in and out. Will slowly nods his head, matching his movements with the syncopation of the lights. He tilts his body forward, and then rocks back. As he shifts his weight in a gradual, tired beat, he can almost smell the salt-stained breeze float around him.

“We all have our own realities,” Doctor Lecter began, seemingly off in the distance. “Like fingerprints and genes, no two realities are exactly the same. We have our own perceptions, our own experiences, and our own internal logic. But for most people, these perceptions converge, forming the accepted reality. Do you see the accepted reality? The common truth?"

Will slowly blinked, and he still saw the lights, and he still felt the breeze. Out on the horizon, he could still see a symmetrical pattern of tide rocks. He stepped forward, and he began to feel water cover his feet. He could also feel small droplets of rain hit his face. It would start to downpour soon. A storm was coming.

There was no one else in the world he loathed more than the doctor, but he knew he had to speak. With a forceful effort, Will managed a dark, hateful laugh.

“Like you said, I see _my_ reality, Doctor Lecter. I have no other way of seeing.”

Hannibal smiled briefly, before standing directly in front of Will, staring, emotionless, into his eyes.

“That is false. Your gift, what makes you different, an outcast, is your ability to see into everyone’s realities. To make them your own. You can cross into the minds of others as a first person, as the owner. The very reason you first came to me was because you couldn't stop assuming the lives of others.”

“And yet, even with all that” Will growled, “I can’t see into yours.”

Hannibal paused for a minute, and then grabbed Will’s shoulder, “Perhaps that is best for a doctor-patient relationship.”

“Stop lying, Doctor Lecter,” Will sang, clenching his fists “This isn't a doctor-patient relationship, and it never was. There’s a reason I can’t see your ‘reality’, and it has more meaning than a convenience”

“Then what, to you, is our relationship, if not one of an observer and the observed?” Hannibal asked.

Will felt his blood boiling with anger and frustration. There was something about the doctor that only Will could see, something that only existed in his reality. Everyone saw him as a harmless psychologist, but underneath all that, there was something much more deep and twisted. They couldn’t see what he saw. Hannibal was dangerous. Hannibal was the ultimate wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“We’re predators; testing each other, calculating our moves, waiting for an opportunity to strike,” Will stated, almost shaking with rage. He grimaced “And it’s only a matter of time before first blood is drawn.”

Hannibal moved his hand to the base of Will’s neck. “In your reality we are enemies. Fighting each other because of primal instinct, of a need for survival. Or, perhaps, dominance” He tightened his grip, moving his thumb to Will’s windpipe. As his hair stood on end, Will anxiously noticed the water was almost up to their ankles. It was almost deep enough to drown someone.

Hannibal continued, unyielding “In my reality we are symbiotic. We need each other.” Trailing his hand along Will’s jugular vein, he applied enough pressure to cause a sharp pain. “For what is the psychologist without a patient? I don’t want to fight you, Will Graham”

“I guess that’s where our realities _diverge_ ,” snarled Will, and he tackled Hannibal into the water with a splash. The doctor landed on his back, but was quick enough to dodge Will’s punch, and to get himself back on his feet. Will ran towards him, but he was slow and untrained. Hannibal easily deflected and landed a blow of his own right on Will’s shoulder. Will stumbled forward, but managed to keep his balance. He knew he’d have no chance against a martial artist and trained ex-surgeon, but he had to fight. This was his truth and he would live up to it even if it killed him. Hannibal Lecter was the Chesapeake Ripper. Hannibal Lecter was a murderer, and a master manipulator. If Will died here, at least he would no longer be another person controlled by the domineering Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

“Is this the reality you want?” Hannibal groaned, feeling sore from the fall.

“If it gives me a chance to tear you apart, then I’ll take it,” coughed Will. He circled Hannibal, and the doctor did likewise. The watched each other intently, both furiously running through scenarios and strategies.

“We are both predators,” snickered Will, and he lunged, trying to sweep out Hannibal’s legs. The doctor just managed to move away, and he smashed his elbow hard into Will’s back, sending him face first into the water. Though the water was high enough to spare his nose, Will felt pain shoot through his whole body. Before he could react, Hannibal straddled him and shot his hands around Will’s neck, simultaneously keeping his head above the water and strangling him. Even though Will struggled, it was only a matter of minutes before he was out cold.

Unconscious, but not dead.


	2. The Second Will

The lights of various electrical devices flickered on and off repeatedly. An electrical storm had subjected anything connected to a wall to constant blinking. The flashing lights turned Will Graham, who stood in the middle of a Virginian living room, into an eerie silhouette. Hannibal Lecter watched as Will shifted forward and backward in a slow, deliberate movement. Almost mirroring the movements of a boat. Will was somewhere else in his mind.

“We all have our own realities,” Doctor Lecter began, a few paces behind Will. “Like fingerprints and genes, no two realities are exactly the same. We have our own perceptions, our own experiences, and our own internal logic. For most people, these perceptions converge, forming the accepted reality. Do you see the accepted reality? The common truth?”

He heard the voice of the doctor and he felt a burst of adrenaline, a sense of danger. All of his senses sharpened as he anticipated a welcome fear. For his debut, a true master came to observe his work.

Will stood in a pool of blood. The entire room smelled of death, and blood soaked through the rug and drops were occasionally dripping onto the floor. A few feet from Will, three bodies were placed spread eagle in a line, hands tied together. They were all women, all clothed, though their stomachs had been torn open, with all their organs piled onto that one spot. All of them were obese.

There had been a purposeful design to it. Amateur, and unsure, but it was there.

“Like you said, I see _my_ reality, Doctor Lecter. I have no other way of seeing,” seethed Will, almost angry at his condition, and his inability to see a grander artistic vision.

Hannibal smiled briefly, before standing directly in front of Will, staring confidently into his eyes.

“That is false. Your gift, what makes you different - an outcast- is your ability to see into everyone’s realities. To make them your own. You can cross into the minds of others as a first person, as the owner. The very reason you first came to me was because you couldn’t stop assuming the lives of others”

“And yet, even with all that,” murmured Will, “I can’t see into yours.”

Hannibal put his hand on Will’s shoulder, “Perhaps that is best for a doctor-patient relationship.”

“Stop lying, Doctor Lecter,” Will sang mischievously. “This isn’t a doctor-patient relationship, and it never was. There’s a reason I can’t see your ‘reality’, and it has more meaning than a convenience”

“Then what, to you, is our relationship, if not one of an observer and the observed?” Hannibal asked.

Hannibal could see the gears turning in Will’s head. Will had progressed so much over the short time he knew him. Everyone saw Will as a man who struggled to express himself; a man who was locked within his own mind. But now, Will was learning to make himself heard.

He had learned to kill on his own.

“We’re predators; testing each other, calculating our moves, waiting for an opportunity to strike,” Will stated, with an overly dramatic effect. He smiled devilishly, “And it’s only a matter of time before first blood is drawn.”

Hannibal moved his hand to the base of Will’s neck, letting his fingers follow the contour of his body. “In your reality we are enemies. Fighting each other because of primal instinct, of a need for survival. Or, perhaps, dominance” He trailed his hand halfway up his neck, barely touching the skin. The small hairs on the back of Will’s neck stood on end. With a quick glance, Will noticed the pooling blood surrounding them. It was enough to make quite a mess.

Hannibal continued, keeping contact “In my reality we are symbiotic. We need each other.” He put Will’s head in his hand, but with such light a touch to elicit a welcoming shiver. “For what is the psychologist without a patient? I don’t want to fight you, Will Graham.”

“I guess that’s where our realities _diverge_ ,” growled Will Graham as he shoved Hannibal to the ground. Hannibal landed on his back, and was prepared as the detective began ripping off his shirt. Pulling Will towards him, he felt a pleasant pain shoot through his body. Will was biting at his neck, and internally, he laughed at the irony. With a quick movement of his hands, he carefully unbuttoned Will’s shirt and let his hand slide gracefully down from the stomach and through the front of the waistband. Will bucked back a bit, feeling himself get harder every second. Straddling Hannibal’s hips, he stared hungrily into his eyes as he vigorously undid his belt. He knew he stood no chance against someone with the flexibility of a martial artist, and the precision of a trained ex-surgeon, but he didn’t care. This was his truth and he wanted Hannibal Lecter. Ever since revealing the Chesapeake Ripper, he admired Lecter as a master manipulator, and the highest level of artistic murderer, to the point of fanaticism. Even if this would eventually lead to his death, at least he was fulfilling one of his deepest desires.

“Is this the reality you want?” Hannibal moaned, breathlessly as their mouths met and separated. He was sitting up now, and Will’s hands were pulling his head upward towards his own. He felt Will’s long fingers shift through his hair, and their lips being pressed together. Hannibal became so forceful that he was almost biting Will’s lower lip.

“If it gives me a chance to tear you apart, then I’ll take it,” exhaled Will. But as he said those words, Hannibal flipped him over. He felt the blood on the floor seep onto his back, and watched Hannibal removing his pants to reveal his own throbbing desire. Moving his hands down Will’s chest, he paused just before the waistline line of his underwear. At this point, Will was fully aroused, and seeing Hannibal above him in the missionary position sent his mind reeling. As Will began to lift his hands to help himself, Hannibal pinned them down, hard. He got the message. With an expert level of gentleness, Hannibal grazed his hand around Will’s member, only using the lightest, minimal of touches. Will squeaked with anticipation, and as he tried to lift his hands again, Hannibal once again pinned them down. But this time, he held Will’s wrists above his head, and he nipped at Will’s ears and jawline. As a punishment, Hannibal pushed Will’s head back and sucked at his exposed Adam’s apple while only barely touching the heated bulge.

Will, no longer able to hold out, cried out, and Hannibal moved his hands back down, once again taking Will’s member into his hands, letting the heat spread across his palms. With a mix of blood and water on his hand, he glided his hand up and down the shaft. He started slowly, drawing out long moans from Will. And then he went faster, and faster, becoming rougher with each slide. Will’s cries did nothing to stop him, and in fact, they added to his own arousal. Almost on the edge, Will sat up and pushed Hannibal to the ground. However, not wanting to lose dominance, Hannibal pushed back. They kept rolling over each other, occasionally stopping to finish a kiss.

“We are both predators,” Will snickered, as he finally pinned him down, cupping Hannibal’s cock. But just as he was getting used to his position, Hannibal forcefully swept out his knees and swung himself upward. Will ended up face down with the blood splashing on his face, and Lecter straddling him. Before will could react, he felt hands rubbing his back in a vigorous and desperate massage. He could feel his muscles relax and strengthen. He was being prepared. Lecter’s strong fingers were warm against his skin, and he became so comfortable that he didn’t fight back when he felt something being rubbed around his buttocks. He also didn’t fight back when he felt his hips being pulled back, placing him on his hands and knees. Then, he felt a rush of intense vivid pleasure consume his body. At first there was a dull pain, but with each thrust, as Will felt heat rushing in and out of him, he became more alive. He moaned and cried out for Hannibal to stop, but he didn’t want him to. The weight of the raw muscles slamming in to him, holding him, desiring him, made him want more. He moved his hands rapidly up and down his erection, almost blacking out from the stimulation. Before long, he was seeing stars, and with a cry he came.

Suddenly, the thrusts stopped, and he heard a deep guttural moan. He felt Hannibal’s grip loosen and fall off completely. Will slid back to being flat on his stomach. And in a few moments, he fell asleep.


	3. My Will

Hannibal sighed, he let his analysis wander too far off. One of his greatest gifts was his ability to see the layers that composed the people he met, and to immediately visualize and calculate how each one interacted independently. He surmised that Will Graham was comprised of two contradictory levels. The first being the one who fought Hannibal. This layer was created by society, by his colleagues and his inherent belief in justice. A life spent being fostered by what is deemed “acceptable”, and not enough room for self-expression. This William Graham was incapable of creating, and in the face of his own handiwork, sent himself into the safe place in his mind to escape reality. This layer was weak. But the second layer, the one who lived on instinct, was beginning to take hold. It was why Graham murdered the women in the first place, it was also why Graham alerted him to his location. This one was courting Doctor Lecter, appealing to his love of imagination, artistry, and dominance. This Will wanted to be heard, to hold power over others. He wanted to taste what it means to be alive, to desire, and ascend above the common mass. He wanted to become Hannibal, and, once doing so, he wanted to take him down in the slowest, most intimate way possible. 

They were predators, after all. 

But as of the moment, the first layer reigned. However, that wouldn’t last forever. Over time, Hannibal knew, it would fade. Not right away, of course, but eventually. No doubt, Will would call out to him again, standing over a well-crafted kill. Most likely the meeting will end the same way. But after meeting after meeting, murder after murder, Will Graham would gradually gravitate toward Lecter. Their realities will merge over their shared admiration for pure power, control, and domination. Will’s restrictive first layer will fade completely, and at that time, he will fully realize himself. And it would be at that time they would truly face off. Hannibal fantasized about how he planned to destroy him in every way possible. 

For now, however, a broken nose seemed to be enough damage for one day. It was time for him to leave.

He couldn't be seen here.


End file.
